


Inheritance

by heme



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heme/pseuds/heme
Summary: And, Silence spoke.
Kudos: 3





	Inheritance

Explosions were blooms of shock and heat.

A sudden perturbation – relapsed as silence.

Amidst the noise, ground was splattered with flying dust; craters of impact coloured deep in blood.

Loud and memorable. The attempts of a mayfly on leaving a mark on history.

Like a fragile soap bubble, humans were short lived. Surface tension, defined by never – ending circles of games were unbearable pressures, yet a closed loop balances unequal forces out with a result of zero.

And thus: a strike at the right place, a hammer in the right direction was all it takes for them to perish.

Perhaps a few would even leave their equally transient offsprings into the world, as a legacy of their own.

But what would continuation be, if not stemmed from the original soul of the creator?

Misinterpretation.

\------

Iwagakure was carved out of mountain ranges by earth techniques.

Subtraction. Removal of substances already fixed in position.

Clay moulding was different.

Addition. Layer upon layer, increasingly delicate shapes and outlines were created.

The mountains around the old city still existed after their mutilation, fowls in highlands taking up residence between the barren peaks. Both were driven by the same idea – geography was a strategic defence.

And birds have gone to nest, except a rootless person.

What was he waiting for?

\------

Explosions were blooms of shock and heat.

Slaughter was civilisation. Obedience was freedom. The nail which sticks out most was hammered down.

His bloodline limit was incredibly efficient at carrying out orders. They annihilated enemies, too quick and unpredictable to defend against. Along with shockwaves and flying debris, skeletons were fractured, skin seared with burns.

Obedience was not freedom, shinobi handled mistaken. The only solution was death.

Free from the surface tension delivered by society.

\------

Every once in a while, a ninja would gain infamy for torturing in the name of fun.

Barbaric, the ones who have their hands stained with blood would say, not even animals would fall onto this level.

They were although correct on a point: not even animals would exhibit this behaviour. Predator – prey relationships were fundamentally different, as does killing to advantage oneself.

Rules were laid out by society.

Then do play the game of thoughts. If society was twisted at its core, will humans living under it gain a clear perception of acceptable behaviour?

The answer to the consequence was still exactly the same, never changing at its roots, despite presenting itself in the glory of its variations – freedom.

Freedom to be God. To dictate the will of others, the relish in the reversal of roles.

The oppressed has become the oppressor. Wilful ignorance is always knowledge.

_Ite, missa est._

\------

Humans are animals at the very centre.

It is meaningless to argue against biochemistry. So, take advantage of it. Take advantage of what could not be changed.

Take what was given, and turn it into the greatest possible freedom.

Brushes with death floods the body with adrenaline. A trance was entered under the effect, where one would not be tied down by worldly concerns.

What was done is done, and accordingly, why not give it a name?

Art of the transient.

The ultimate cereus bloom under moonlight.

\------

Heritability is an often – misinterpreted word.

Heritability of the variance, and not heritability of the average.

The trait of his bloodline limit was a fallout of heritability. When the village was done pointing fingers at the surface, they dug deeper, holding his lacklustre disobedience accountable by heritability.

Heritability.

One word explains all, according to the higher – ups.

With heritability comes genes, the central dogma.

Variation in certain genes affects one’s future likelihood of violent defiance, the data were plotted on elegant graphs.

In the utopic village, where everyone worked for the greater good, where barbaric actions were washed clean in rivers of future safety.

One by one, according to the blood samples from the village hospital, people possessing variants of order noncompliance were thinned out.

Isolated.

Treated like monsters they deserve to be.

\------

Two details about the study was conveniently forgotten.

Lost in the dust of information explosion. Never to be remembered.

The independent variable was childhood exposure to violence. At low amounts of savagery, what was deemed the inferior gene offered greater protection of the wielder towards future insubordinate rampages on the average.

Average, the word politicians and _kages_ speak so fondly about.

Unlike the unpredictability and the lack of intuitiveness variance held. The word holds no meaning.

Shinobi, once registered, were killing machines following orders to their death.

Discard the variance, clean Cartesian quadrants was what leaders seek.

Silence shall be the echochamber.

In time, everything will be undeniably true.

\------

The light which illuminates the darkness is the prospect of freedom.

Freedom of the spiritual from the physical, the reality.

Art is higher than reality, and should has no direct relation to reality.

Upon the acropolis, he stood, marvelling at the freedom of flight. To accentuate the spiritual in art, he found himself utilising abstract ideals.

Sculptures were exhibited to friends and enemies alike, making no distinction. With every piece of art, a fraction of his identity, his soul, was inserted.

Self – expression was his final stand against dissuasion of a mayfly to create history.

Along with the shockwave carrying heat, light was seen.

The light that shall illuminate the darkness. The sound that shall collapse the silence.

Still, nightfall is eternal.

Never to be swayed.

**Author's Note:**

> Written by an insomniac at night.
> 
> I always saw Deidara as a victim of history. May he gain a better life under my alternate universes.
> 
> That is all I can do within my abilities.


End file.
